


Howl of the Carrion King

by JackBivouac



Series: Legacy of Fire [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Blood and Torture, Bondage, Breeding, F/F, F/M, Father/Son Incest, Forced Incest, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Humiliation, Impregnation, Interspecies Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mother/daughter incest, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Rape, Revenge Sex, Sadism, Sexual Slavery, Suicide, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-21 09:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18140210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackBivouac/pseuds/JackBivouac
Summary: Backstory oneshots deviating/derived from a Legacy of Fire campaign





	1. The Price of a Thief

The glow of fire upon the arid, trackless plains of Katapesh drew attention to the camp beneath the Sultan’s Claw. With five immense, mostly leafless branches, the craggy tree appeared more giant, skeletal talon than a thing of living wood. 

Clustered about was a caravan of a half-dozen wagons and tents. A clutch of camels, goats, and other livestock snorted softly in restful slumber. The presence of two guards, lounging and smoking about the campfire was more encouragement than discouragement to the scavenger--the camp kept something worth guarding, and these two were easily avoided.

Utaru, shrouded in desert-blending robes, creeped first toward a tent at the edge of the camp. No need to press her luck just yet.

She was only slightly disappointed to find nothing more than valuable than weapons and leathers. But before she could sneak off to a tent closer to the guarded center of the camp, a large, powerful hand seized around her ankle.

Utaru stifled her yelp as she was yanked backward, falling atop the sleeper no longer sleeping. He was a giant under her.

Utaru couldn’t see in the darkness, but she had the misfortune to awaken a duskwalker. Dashki, the abandoned spawn of a psychopomp, was a seven-foot wall of unyielding, gray-skinned muscle. He had the knife-like ears of his elven sire but was broader and rougher in face than any of their genteel kind.

Dashki shifted his grip, crushing her against his bare chest with one arm. The other ripped the shrouds from her head for a fistful of hair.

“Why has a mouse come to crawl in my tent?” he growled low and soft in threat. “Lie, and I’ll tear your head from your neck.”

“Please,” Utaru pleaded, her voice hushed in fear, “I didn’t mean any harm--”

“Lies,” he hissed, giving her hair a sharp, scalp-biting tug.

Utaru winced at the pain. “No, no! I came only to steal and go, but you’ve nothing…”

The words died on her lips at the rumble of laughter from the chest crushed to hers. “It’s time you learned to pay, thief.”

Dashki released her hair only to rip the desert robes from her body.

“No! Please don’t do this,” she begged, squirming in the crushing grip of his arm.

The duskwalker paid her no heed, reaching under and between her kicking knees to stiffen his cock. He pressed its burning head against the mouth of her anus, for he was not without mercy. He would give her no children this night.

Dashki slid her helplessly fighting body down his own, feeling every gasp and jerk as he impaled her on his cock. She breathed hard through her clenched, struggling not to cry out in pain and alert the camp to her presence. It was more strength than he’d given the human credit for. He could tell from the straining pressure of her walls around his cock that he was stretching her to very limits of her anal shaft. 

The duskwalker grabbed one of her tiny wrists in either hand and rocked his hips. The thief was forced to sit upright, the weight of her body driving her shaft down, swallowing his dick to the hilt.

Utaru sputtered, breathing wet and hard through her nose as the giant’s cock shoved her organs upward into her lungs. Then, he rocked. 

The pounding shift of his cock in her stuffed anus sent her walls spasming with pleasured shocks. Raw, animal rut lanced up her arching back. Her body quivered rigid and convulsed from the inside out. Her mouth opened with a finger-clenching, toe-curling moan.

Everyone in the camp was awakened by her feral, needy cries. Utaru didn’t have the presence of mind to care. Her hips rocked of their own volition on the duskwalker’s dick, even her infertile ass desperate for his seed.

Dashki laughed and let the wildly bucking thief milk him of every drop. She shuddered at the burst of his cum. When he was finished, she collapsed on top of him, sweaty and panting.

He let her lie, absently patting the smooth skin of her back while his cum seeped from between her legs. Her breath fell into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Dashki shook his head. A thief should’ve known better than to fall asleep in a slaver’s camp.


	2. Mirage in the Dark

Garavel, the horned, brass-skinned suli-jann, whip-thin among Lady Almah’s bodyguards, hated Dashki. He loathed that stupid, arrogant brute with every fiber of his being. He abhorred the way that Lady Almah doted upon him, the way she invited him into her bed nearly every night, the way she and every woman and even some of the slaves looked upon his giant’s form with hungry eyes.

Thus far, his only recourse had been to take the largest of the male slaves into his bed at night. There, he ensorcelled them with Dashki’s image. He raped them until they cried or passed out, usually both, from the fury of his pounding assault in their ass.

One day, he would ream Dashki's muscular ass into the sand, force the duskwalker to swallow his cum, and piss in his stupid face. The thought carried him through from one bitter day in Dashki’s shadow to the next.

So when morning came and the duskwalker emerged from his tent dragging a naked stranger to the slave wagon, Garavel followed with dark curiosity. He watched as Utaru was collared, branded, and shackled with other women in the wagon.

That night, Lady Almah took Dashki into her tent yet again. They would fuck for hours before she sent him away to ensure some sleep for herself.

Garavel dragged Utaru to his, naked save for the leash and collar around her neck. He tied her leash to a stake, forcing her to enter his tent on her shackled hands and knees. As soon as the tent folds fell shut behind her, he cast his illusion.

It was Dashki who knelt in chains on the floor of the suli-jann’s tent, his solid black eyes burning with hatred.

Garavel smiled back. He cast aside his robes and slapped Dashki in the face with his dick. The burning flush of humiliation in the duskwalker’s cheeks stiffened him at once.

Because the original slave was so small, Dashki's form had scaled down to fit her. Which allowed the suli-jann to step between Dashki's shoulder blades and crush his muscled chest to the ground, ass up.

Garavel kept his rival ground underheel as he squatted at an angle over his muscled ass. He held Dashki's ass steady, nails of both hands digging into the duskwalker's asscheeks and thighs. With a dark, twisted smile, he shoved his cock through his clenched hole at a skewed angle.

His dick tore through Dashki's walls and continued to ram through, punching a new, raw hole through the wall of his anal shaft.

Dashki erupted into an inhumanly screaming, animal-thrashing tantrum of pain. His flailing arms beat themselves against ground, chains rattling. His legs kicked up like a maddened donkey's under Garavel's. His monkey-shrieking mouth foamed in the dirt.

Garavel cackled wildly on his bucking bitch of a rival. He stamped his foot down harder, crushing the air from Dashki's lungs. He continued forcing his dick into the duskwalker's asshole at unnatural angles, each pistoning thrust punching a new bloody hole through his painfully convulsing walls.

With his lungs straining, Dashki succumbed to wave after wave of bloody, anal agony, drowning into red unconsciousness. His body went limp, twitching when Garavel's dick pierced through nerve tissue, but otherwise silent and still.

The suli harumphed and pulled his dick out of the crumpled body. He picked up Dashki's head by the hair and came down his throat.

The duskwalker fell to his feet, leaking blood from the ass and cum from the mouth. With a satisfied smirk, Garavel pissed on his rival's broken back. This was what illusions were made for.


	3. Seeds Planted in the Desert

Dashki was not surprised that Lady Almah called him to her tent this night. He was not, however, expecting this sight.

Lady Almah lounged naked upon her silks, her brown body glistening with perfumed oils. Off to the side of the bedding were her personal slaves, the grinning, red-skinned, flame-haired ifrit Fixx, and the impassive, blue-skinned divspawn tiefling Ulle. They were naked save for their collars and binding.

Fixx's heated dick was locked into erection by a sheath of metal rings. Two ornate bracers shackled his wrists together in front of him. Ulle knelt, delicate metal cuffs locking her wrists to the sister cuffs around either ankle.

The thief turned slave was curled into a fetal position up on pillows between them. She wore her new collar with eyes bulged in fear. A complex net of silk ropes bound and squeezed her luscious breasts to redness. The harness pinned her arms to her sides, and wrenched her hands behind her back.

“Garavel claims this is the woman you turned over to the slavers,” drawled Lady Almah. “What a cruel man you are, Dashki, to enslave your own lover.”

“She's not my lover,” shrugged the duskwalker. “She's a thief. Now she will work, honest and hard.”

Lady Almah broke into peals of tinkling laughter. “So she shall, so she shall. Come, Dashki. My mouth hungers for your tongue.”

She spread her legs upon the silks. The duskwalker disrobed and knelt before his lady. He buried his nose and mouth into the wet folds of her cunt.

Off the side of the bed, Fixx crouched and dragged the bound Utaru's legs to him. He dropped one ankle over either shoulder, leering down at her twisted mask of fear.

Before she could voice a whimper of protest, Ulle tottered on her knees to Utaru's head. The divspawn climbed unsteadily onto Utaru's mouth. She rocked her blue-skinned cunt into Utaru's startled tongue.

Fixx shoved his hot, metal-ringed cock into Utaru's anus. The new slave screamed into Ulle's mound in her mouth, the backs of her legs jerking and banging against the ifrit's chest in agony.

But for all the slave's tormented cries, Dashki never turned from their mistress’ needy cunt. He ate and tongued her twitching clit raw until she grabbed his head in both hands, squealing and bucking her hips into his face in desperate lust.

The duskwalker forced two fingers into the tight mouth of her anus. With inhale sharp as a knife, her body went rigid, walls clenching for dear life onto his fingers. Lady Almah came onto his tongue and collapsed into a sweaty heap on the silks.

“Will that be all?” asked Dashki. For reasons he did not understand, a sense of foreboding lurked in pit of his gut. Animal instinct commanded him to flee the lady's decadent den.

“Not quite, my giant snackeral. Are you hard?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then empty your dick into our new little slave.”

That didn't sound so ominous. Utaru's snug anus had easily sucked him dry not two nights ago.

Dashki pulled the bucking Ulle off her stickied face and yanked the thrusting Fixx out of her red, swollen asshole. Lady Almah's bound slaves fell into a jumble of shackled limbs.

The duskwalker scooped Utaru up from behind so that Lady Almah could see the slave's every facial twitch. He pinned her back to his chest with his hands gripping the soft flesh of either thigh. He slid her down to the head of his dick.

“Not her ass, Dashki. Rape her worthless, filthy cunt.”

The duskwalker needed only the slightest shift. He pushed her pussy lips down over his impaling cock. 

Utaru grunted at the heated stretch wedging her walls painfully apart. Her back banged against Dashki's solid chest in protest, but he forced her straining cunt to swallow his giant's cock to the hilt.

He bounced her like a mere toy of flesh on his dick. Each penetration wrenched her walls apart and barrelled into the helpless mouth of her womb.

Utaru thrashed and spasmed. Her sobs choked with moans as the duskwalker's raping dick pummeled her cunt into orgasm. Her treacherous walls squeezed tight around his cock, begging and wringing him for seed.

Dashki came with a guttural grunt, exploding into her fertile womb. As a duskwalker, he had an infallible sense for the windows of life and death. But now that she was a sex slave, she would be given a draught to prevent unwanted impregnation.

The duskwalker left his mistress's tent under said assumption. But Lady Almah looked down at the sweating, leaking huddle of her new slave with a sadistic grin. The child of a slave would be a slave themself unless their master deemed otherwise.

Lady Almah could never with the children of the woman who stole seed from her favored lover. No, Utaru would give birth, and she and her duskwalker children would spend the rest of their lives paying for their mother's unfathomably stupid mistake.


	4. The Sins of the Fathers

Utaru the slave gave birth to twins, Vodra and Hadah, also twins. Though human like their mother, the brother and sister had been ineffably marked, even cursed by their father's duskwalker blood. In a single year, they grew from infancy to childhood. The next year brought them from childhood into adolescence--all changes Lady Almah and Garavel watched with evil, smirking eyes.

The twins were small and slight like their mother, but their skin was more gray than brown, and their hair an ashen coal. Their ears were ever so slightly pointed, but their faces had none of Dashki's roughness. His elven blood had mingled with Utaru's beauty to give brother and sister delicate, fey-like features.

Which blossomed into adulthood in their third year. The sibling slaves of menial labor were ripe for the plucking into Lady Almah's sexual host.

She commanded them bathed and dressed in virginal white. Thus prepared, brother and sister were sent to her tent for defloweration.

Lady Almah lounged naked upon her silks. To her right stood Garavel, Fixx the ifrit, and Ulle the divspawn. To her left stood Utaru and Dashki, mother and father of the twins. The two were likewise dressed in white robes, tears of fear and foreboding running down Utaru's face.

“Bind them,” said Lady Almah, her mouth spread in a feline smirk.

Fixx and Ulle stepped forward with red silk ropes in their hands. Born slaves, neither Vodra nor Hadah resisted as the ifrit and divspawn bent their arms bend their back, tying each wrist under the opposite elbow.

“Don't cry, Mother,” said Vodra, even managing a slight, woefully naive smile.

“Lie down,” purred the lady, patting the silks on either side of her.

Vodra and Hadah knelt and rolled from their sides onto their backs with their mistress between them. Fixx knelt behind Vodra and Ulle behind Hadah. Lady Almah's personal slaves pinned the siblings’ shoulders beneath their palms.

“Dashki, you take Vodra's flower. Utaru, you take Hadah's.”

Dashki's eyes widened in genuine, numbskulled shock. Then narrowed dangerously, his fingers flexing at the hilts of his scimitar and dagger. “Lady Almah, you speak words of madness and abomination. These may be your sex slaves, but they are also my children.”

Lady Almah shrugged between his children, utterly apathetic to their mounting panic.

“You can either fuck them with mercy, or Garavel here will command your body with his sorcery, which is certain to be unpleasant for all.”

Dashki answered with a roar, unsheathing his blades faster than the eye could see. But not faster than spells quickened and prepared.

Garavel flung his enchantments at Dashki and Utaru with a wild laugh. The two shuddered and fell still. The duskwalker's blades shunked upright into the floor of the tent.

“M-Mother?” Hadah breathed.

Garavel's fingers curled like a puppeteer's. Father and mother turned to face their children with the eyes of those already dead. They stripped of their white, Dashki reaching down to stiffen his giant's cock.

“Father! Mother! No!” screamed their children, bodies thrashing and legs kicking for escape. But hands and rope kept them pinned to the floor.

Dashki and Utaru ripped the robes off their children. Father tongued his son's clenching asshole. Mother slipped between her daughter's legs, grinding mound against mound and clit against clit.

Vodra sobbed as his father's hot, wet tongue squelched in and out of his virgin hole, churning his saliva into his shaft. Hadah writhed and screamed between her mother's legs, Utaru grinding and crushing her clit to swollen, twitching red.

Vodra cried out in sweet, cold relief as his father's tongue finally pulled from his asshole. Only to scream as the burning head of Dashki's giant dick crested into his anus.

Vodra bucked and shrieked, kicking at his own father. But the enchanted duskwalker thrust forward relentlessly. His dick tore through Vodra's virgin shaft, penetrating him to its massive hilt.

The small, slight Vodra shook like a snake's rattle impaled upon his father's dick. He gasped in soundless bursts, the air crushed from his lungs. Spit dribbled from the corners of his mouth.

Lady Almah moaned beside him, pleasuring herself with her own fingers in both holes. The children's screams were music to her ears.

Hadah, too, rattled and gasped in nasal shrieks. Her mother shoved one whole fist up her virgin pussy and one up her ass, stuffing her daughter like a sow on the spit.

Father and mother pummeled and raped their children's holes until their eyes rolled back into their skills. Dashki exploded into his unconscious son's ravaged asshole. Instead of pulling them out, Garavel broke his enchantment.

Dashki and Utaru awoke, dick and arms deep in their sweat and drool-covered children. Their wailing sobs were inhuman. They eased their dick and arms out from their children as gently as they could, but the damage had already been done. And it was irrevocable.

Unplugged, cum and virginal blood seeped out from between Vodra and Hadah’s legs. Lady Almah laughed and dipped a slicked finger in either puddle. She licked them clean, smirking right into Dashki and Utaru’s grief-twisted faces.

“That will be all for now. You incestuous rapists...are dismissed.”

Dashki and Utaru fled from Lady Almah’s tent in shame, chased by the laughter of the lady, Garavel, and her slaves.

#*#*#*#*

Father and mother met in Dashki’s tent that night. Dashki held his scimitar. Utaru accepted his dagger without a word.

The duskwalker stabbed his blade straight through to the back of his neck. He dropped to his knees, blood pouring onto his chest and down his back. His darkening eyes met Utaru’s. Hers were finally dry.

Utaru smiled grimly and drew his dagger across her throat. She crumpled across from him, hitting the floor of the tent with a soft gurgle.

The duskwalker’s fingers found hers in the puddle of their mingling blood. There was no love to be found in this shameful, desolate place. In death, they had only abandoned their enslaved children to evils of the desert.


End file.
